Displacement
by Annalisse Rubisher
Summary: Sirius hadn't always known how different he was from his family, until he finally noticed. Written for The Quidditch League Competition. Gen, Marauders Era.


**Title**: Displacement

**Beta**(**s**): CleopatraIsMyName

**Challenge/Prompts**: Written for The Quidditch League Competition/prompts chosen: 3, "When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow." ― Ursula K. Le Guin; 6, "We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving." ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; and 13, Apologise.

**Rating**: K+

**Warning**(**s**): None

**Word Count**: 1,827

**Characters/Pairings**: Sirius Black, Walburga Black, and Regulus Black.

**Disclaimer**: This work of fiction is in no way connected to the author of Harry Potter, JK Rowling. Harry Potter is owned by her, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary**: Sirius hadn't always known how different he was from his family, until he finally _noticed_.

* * *

It was when he was younger, Sirius decided, that he realised just how much he didn't _fit_ in with his family. What made this slow realisation even worse was the fact that he couldn't remember a time when he _didn_'_t _feel different.

Sirius was a troublemaker from day one. As a child, he liked to chase the Crup around the garden of the manor, and took joy in playing little jokes on his cousins, whenever they came over. He found happiness in making others laugh, and even in the small nuances of the best of pranks. And, though Sirius certainly acted the role of the fool, he was by no means stupid. Being a Black, and especially the heir of the family line, he was taught lessons away from his younger brother, lessons on the purity of blood, his role as the heir, and the responsibilities that came along with the burden.

When Sirius was able to understand the undertones of his relationships with others, he wasn't very pleased with what he had found. It was on one specific occasion when Sirius figured out just how his own _mother_ felt about him, that jaded him on that aspect.

He could remember the day very vaguely, just the events that led up to his discovery. The day had been relatively ordinary. Lessons had been smooth, though Sirius never understood some of them particularly well, and the rest of the day was spent lurking about the manor, doing this and that. Later on, Sirius found himself seated at the dining table, family surrounding him on either side. His father was quiet, as per usual, and his mother, Walburga, had an air of darkness encompassing her, causing Sirius to limit all interaction with her. He knew from experience that she would immediately snap at him, had he opened his mouth and said anything.

He looked around slightly, and noticed that Regulus was missing. Though the Black heir was dying to let his mother know of this, Sirius also knew that she had, doubtless, already noticed. Mentally shrugging the worry away, Sirius concentrated on his food. The house elves had given him fewer vegetables than usual, and he was quite content with the meal.

A _thump_-_thump _down the stairs alerted Sirius to Regulus' presence. The boy was panting slightly, an exultant flush on his pudgy face, mouth open in a joyful grin. Despite Sirius' silent warnings to not do so, Regulus walked over to their mother and announced the newest trick he had taught the Crup.

"He shook my hand!" Regulus exclaimed happily, dark eyes bright in his happiness. To Sirius' surprise, Walburga didn't react in much a negative way, though certainly not a positive way. She merely nodded her head, and directed Regulus to his seat. The boy squirmed in his chair to get comfortable, before picking up his spoon and taking in a bit of his soup.

Sirius was momentarily bewildered, and not just a little hurt. If _he_ had done the same sort of thing, their mother surely would've scolded _him_. In this case, it wasn't what had been said, as much as what _hadn't_.

"Close your mouth," Walburga snapped, a scowl affixed upon her face. "You'll catch some sort of dreadful creature."

Sirius nodded his head slowly and sighed, taking another bite of his meal.

With this new knowledge in his heart, Sirius found himself analysing the people around him, more often than not, especially his mother and Regulus. For some incomprehensible reason, Sirius felt that his mother _favoured_ his younger brother over him. Though, as he thought on it now, it surely had never been much of a surprise. And, as reluctant as he was to admit it to himself, Regulus seemed to suit the role of Black heir much better than Sirius did.

And, though it hadn't occurred to him until that moment, Sirius began to realise that it had _always_ seemed that way.

For years after that, Sirius tried his best to blend in with his family's values, studying as hard as he could, and listening with faux-rapture whenever his father went over the history of their family, including the parts of the fight for purity.

However, all his hard work seemed to have been for nothing the day he found that, no, he was never going to be able to fit in with his family, never going to think the same way as them, and didn't feel like he even _wanted to_, in either case.

You see, the primary, unspoken rule of the household was to never interact with Muggles, or anyone with muddy blood, though Sirius found it was harder than expected to ever keep to it. Sirius could never understand what was so wrong with being Muggle-born, and how that changed another person, because he found it did _not_.

So, Sirius found himself sneaking out on more than one occasion. Being the troublemaker of the family, he was rebellious every day of his life, and felt a special thrill whenever he broke a rule, especially one that had never made much sense to him, in the first place.

Glancing about from side to side, Sirius found the familiar path towards the Muggle playground a few miles from his own house. The grass was as green as it always was, and the air smelled exactly the same as ever, making the rule even odder. With a sigh, the boy sat down on one of the swings, and pushed off, the wind cooling him down on this dreadfully day.

"Hey, Sirius!" a voice called from his right. Forcing his legs down, and limiting his movement, Sirius eventually slowed down. With a smile, he greeted his friend back. The boy, Daniel, lived across from number 12, and was a familiar face to Sirius. This boy was one of the first friends he'd made other than the regular pure-blood children that visited, every now and then.

After exchanging news of the weeks since they had last seen each other, both boys competed to see who could swing the highest. The competition continued until Sirius lost his momentum, and Daniel was still going as high as possible.

They chuckled to themselves, and Daniel poked fun at Sirius' obvious lack of talent in that field, when Sirius heard, "Sirius, you're not playing with a _Muggle_, are you?"

Sirius paused mid-laugh, and jumped off the swing. Standing behind it, no matter how much he tried to deny it, was his younger brother.

"Go away, Regulus," he pled, looking between him and Daniel. Daniel looked on, bewildered beyond a reasonable doubt.

"Are you Sirius' brother, Regulus?" he asked cheerfully, walking close. Regulus backed away quickly, and then turned around. A quick shout over his shoulder told Sirius all he needed to know: Regulus was going to their mum.

Apologising for the interruption, Sirius found himself chasing his brother all the way down to the house, and managed to bump right into a furious Walburga Black.

"M-mum…" he trailed off. Regulus smiled sadly and walked away, no doubt to wonder what had possessed Sirius to make friends with a Muggle.

"Is what Regulus said true?" she calmly stated, arms at her sides. "Were you playing around with a Muggle boy at one of those dangerous contraptions?"

Sirius gulped and nodded his head, cringing underneath her intimidating stance.

"Who told you to do such a thing?"

"N-no one," Sirius muttered.

"Repeat that." She said.

"No one," he reiterated, voice louder this time.

"So, why did you do it?"

"Because I don't know why it is so bad to make friends with a Muggle! Daniel isn't less than us, he doesn't act weird! So, why can't I make friends with a Muggle?"

"Because we are a _pure-blood _family and Muggles will weaken our magic. They're inferior to us. I thought you _understood_ this."

"Well, I didn't! I couldn't care _less_ about what is _pure_ and what isn't. We're all human, aren't we? He hurts the same as we do; he bleeds the same colour that we do. No human is less than the other!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me," Walburga hissed, dark eyes glinting dangerously. "And don't spout such ridiculous ideals. Muggles have done _nothing_ but target witches and wizards, for generations. It's only _safe_ for us to hide from them, and limit our interaction as much as possible."

Sirius eyed her wand-hand with a wary gaze, but couldn't seem to stop himself from speaking his mind. At the very back of his brain, he felt an impulse to apologise and beg for mercy, for he knew just how she would punish him. But, it seemed as if that part of his mind, the part that monitored the things he said, wasn't working properly.

"Then why are we living in this _stupid_ house, surrounded by those _inferior_," he made quotation marks with his fingers. "Muggles, when we could be somewhere else?"

"This house has been here for centuries, before the Muggles came in and… and changed the property," she sputtered, fingers clenching in a fist around her wand. Walburga's fury was near-palpable, and Sirius gulped, sweat gliding down his back. "The Most Honourable and Ancient House of Black shall not move, just because of the infestation of lower creatures."

"You're making absolutely no sense!" he shouted desperately, eyes wide with horror. "Do you hear yourself when you talk, or does it just come out?"

A stomping from downstairs took Sirius by surprise, before a small hand slapped him across the face. He gaped, more from shock than actual pain, at his younger brother.

"R-reg…?"

"Apologise to our mother!" he yelled.

"What?"

"Apologise to her!"

Sirius looked up at his mother, and then away guiltily. Thinking back on his words, he felt a burn at the back of his throat, and hesitated before finally saying, "No, I will not apologise."

Cradling his burning cheek, Sirius shoved past Regulus and ran up the stairs, slamming the door to his room behind him and collapsing on the bed, before finally surrendering to his tears.

The years following that were miserable, particularly for Sirius. He found that he could only exchange the tersest of words to his younger brother, and his mother only ever gazed at him coldly. On more than one occasion, he could hear his mother gush about how wonderful a child Regulus was, unlike his older brother. Though he would never admit it, Sirius found those moments to be the hardest. She always looked positively proud of Regulus, a way she had never looked at Sirius.

Things went ever further downhill when Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor, and not the expected Slytherin House. A week after, he had received a rather strongly worded letter from his mother, though it had the effect of a Howler. Thankfully, his newly discovered friends cheered him right up.

And despite it all, he felt as if he had finally found a place where he belonged.


End file.
